


And Followed Me

by FereldenTurnip



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Morning Sex, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26503957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FereldenTurnip/pseuds/FereldenTurnip
Summary: No one would guess that Nicky’s shoulders are speckled with freckles. From his usual place wrapped around Nicky’s back, Joe traces them with chapped lips like sailor’s fingers on a constellation map.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 31
Kudos: 468





	And Followed Me

No one would guess that Nicky’s shoulders are speckled with freckles. From his usual place wrapped around Nicky’s back, Joe traces them with chapped lips like sailor’s fingers on a constellation map. 

  
  


**If I told the sea what I felt for you...**

  
  


It’s early morning but the skies are overcast with heavy, saturated clouds. The pungent smell of ozone heralds a sombre forecast. Their small hideout-of-the-week is blanketed in greys and blues. It’s gloomy, but not so much that he can’t differentiate pale skin from dark sheets. Nicky is asleep, dead to the world in such a rare way that Joe is loath to disturb him. 

  
  


His Nicky, always the first to jerk to attention at any sign of trouble, soundly sleeps without a care for the storm brewing outside. His hair is mussed and there’s a thin line of drool escaping out the corner of his mouth. _Mighty warrior, indeed!_ His softness is endearing. Joe gently noses the silky hairs at the base of his neck. He breathes him in, lets his eyes close in bliss. He takes that pure, unadulterated Nicky smell--sweat, musk, basil, and gun oil--deep into his lungs so his blood might absorb it straight to his heart.

  
  


Nicky has moles, too. That delectable little beauty mark on his cheek isn’t the only one, merely the most visible. It’s a common subject of Joe’s affection. He kisses it every morning when they wake up and every evening when they sleep (and many, many times in between). A ritual they’re unafraid to share with the public. _This_ however, is all for Joe. His tongue peeks out to lick one mole high on Nicky’s right shoulder. He tastes of salt and cheap bar soap. 

  
  


This is a safe house, and as such the soap is some generic bar from some equally generic pharmacy. Its chemical perfume is garish but it does a decent job scrubbing away blood and grime post-missions. The stand-up shower rarely sees usage more than twice a year. There’s also no hot water, a fact that makes Joe miserable each time he hears the taps run. Perhaps if they were at one of their upscale apartments (the one in Malta immediately comes to mind, resplendent with its antique claw-footed tub and luxurious accoutrements), it’d be a different story. 

  
  


Joe never needs to coax Nicky into a relaxing bath. Surprising, considering how they met. Hiding under all that dirt and chainmail was a man accustomed to steaming bathhouses adorned with frescoes of a once mighty empire. Nicoló di Genova, taciturn and piously belligerent in those early years, effortlessly fitting in amongst the brightly tiled bathhouses in old Cairo. 

  
  


Now, Joe envisions Nicky submerged in fragrant foam and oil, his head haloed by soft, glittering candlelight. The column of his neck barred. Drops of water glistening down his throat. Bubbles barely hiding the peaks of his nipples. Mmmm… now _that_ is an image. 

  
  


Joe’s cock twitches in agreement.

  
  


Their naked legs are slotted together, tangled and lax. Leg hair catches on leg hair and Joe shivers at the familiar sensation. He’s unable to stop the cant of his hips as he seeks out friction. His cock rapidly fills and brushes the cleft of Nicky’s ass. Joe bites his lip and tries to keep quiet but he can already hear the subtle shift in Nicky’s breathing. He’s slowly climbing through the misty veil of sleep. It starts with a nose twitch, then a deep inhale that peters out into a soft moan. Next, Nicky’s toes and fingers curl and uncurl. Joe chuckles, eyes crinkling as he watches him wipe away the drool.

  
  


“Good morning, habibi,” Joe whispers into the shell of his ear. It turns a marvelous shade of pink.

  
  


A content smile pulls at those pretty lips of his. “Mmm-hmm, a _very_ good morning!” Nicky’s speech is slurred--will remain that way until he’s had his first cup of coffee. He rubs himself back against that insistent hardness. In turn, Joe grips his hip to keep him pressed there. Nicky’s eyes are always the last to open--bright, beautiful green. Even in this shadowed bedroom they are luminous. Joe swallows at the sudden swell of emotion. _I have happily lost my soul, cast myself overboard and into the depths of those ocean eyes_. 

  
  


“Love the rain,” Nicky murmurs. Sure enough, the telltale pitter-patter raps steadily against the windowpane. It’s shaping up to be a real downpour. There will be no long strolls to the market for them. Oh well, Joe thinks with anything but remorse, might as well make the most of this moment then.

  
  


“The rain? What about me, _tou coure?_ ”

  
  


They both grin. Nicky twists his upper body towards Joe. He settles a hand on his cheek and gently scratches at his beard. “Of course,” he purrs in a tone that goes straight to Joe’s cock. He’s got That Look in his eyes--sleep momentarily brushed aside to make room for a mischievous twinkle. “Mustn’t forget you, hayati.” He uses the grip on his beard to guide him forward. Joe willingly follows. He’ll _always_ follow. 

  
  


He chases the heat of Nicky’s mouth. Morning breath is easily disregarded in favour of playing with that wicked, wet tongue. Joe spears into his mouth and Nicky immediately catches it between his teeth. He soothes away the pain with a sucking motion that makes Joe’s toes curl. God, but _that mouth_ of his! Nicky often speaks so sweetly and so poignantly he could be a poet of his own merit. His lips shape kind and thoughtful words for the deserving few. Behind closed doors, however? That gluttonous tongue and those devilish lips fervently seek out the taste of Joe’s flesh, of Joe's cock.

  
  


Nicky’s heart bleeds with virtue, but his mouth is made for sinning. 

  
  


Joe sets a continuous pace rocking into Nicky. When he slides his cock between his thighs it’s on that sweet cusp of too-wet-too-dry friction that catches his foreskin on every thrust. He can feel his cock nudging the soft skin of Nicky’s balls and he groans. His Nicky murmurs and clamps his thighs harder together. His own fingers are wrapped around his leaking prick but he’s letting Joe’s movement pitch him into his hand unhurriedly. The purple head of Joe’s cock grazes Nicky’s wrist as it pops through his legs. 

  
  


The arm he slept on ends up underneath Nicky’s neck to cradle his head closer. It gives him better access to his welcoming mouth. His free hand sweeps over Nicky’s chest, relishing the shivers he coaxes from his body. They’re both starting to sweat. The stench of sex permeates their small bedroom. He pinches a dusky nipple between forefinger and thumb, pebbling it to a hardness. Nicky gasps, perpetually sensitive to Joe’s ministrations. He continues to roll the nub, dragging and flicking his nail over it just to savour Nicky’s squirm. He graciously tweaks the other one as well. 

  
  


Once, Joe had Nicky coming from this alone ( _He hovered over his body, his lips attacking his nipples until they were red and raw. Nicoló arched and begged, his long hair curtained around his blushing face, his hands ensnared above his head. He tried to rutting himself against his lover, begging for release. Yusuf denied him. He held him down in a bed of straw until Nicoló keened and cried_ ). Joe moans brokenly at the exquisite memory. 

  
  


Outside, a thunderclap rattles the window frame. There’s noise coming from one of the rooms down the hall. The others are starting to wake. Joe abandons his nipples in favour of gripping his cock instead. He jacks him to the beat of his quickening thrusts. 

  
  


Nicky throws his arm up, hand buried in Joe’s hair to keep their faces as close as possible. “S-sono,” He’s babbling. “Sono vicin- _oh!_ ” His eyebrows knit together, red mouth rounded in pleasure as he huffs staccato gasps. Joe drinks in the sight of him. He’s watched Nicky fall apart like this for centuries but he can never-ever get enough. He’s always parched for more, unsatisfied until he’s completely love-drunk on Nicky. He presses his lips to the mole on his cheek and finally Nicky comes undone. His lithe body draws and tenses in sporadic jerks. Thick strands of come coat Joe’s knuckles, the sheets, Nicky’s stomach, everywhere. Joe claims his mouth and swallows his moans in a passionate kiss. 

  
  


It’s slippery and hot. 

  
  


He luxuriates in the smacking sound his cock makes now that Nicky’s thighs are wet with his release. Joe keeps pistoning his hips, except his rhythm is starting to falter. He hears his name dripping over and over from Nicky’s lips, like a prayer to the lost. That voice curls around his head and fills it with fog. Joe is powerless against his love’s siren call. His nerves alight with ecstasy and suddenly he’s crashing into Nicky’s shore. The first pulse of his come lands behind Nicky’s balls. The second catches on the fluttering rim of his hole. The third and subsequent shots coat his quivering thighs.

  
  


Their breaths rattle in their chests. Sweat and come cools into sticky puddles. They’re both too sated to give a damn. Their free hands weave together and Joe can’t tell who’s rubbing whose thumb. He goes back to mouthing lazily at Nicky’s freckled shoulder. Nicky, meanwhile, is massaging their essence into the thigh Joe’s got draped possessively over his hip. He never misses an opportunity to spread the evidence of their lovemaking and ‘claim’ Joe in such a matter. The next glance up he sees Nicky’s eyes have drifted shut but he’s grinning. Joe can’t help leaning down to kiss him sweetly. 

  
  


There’s a rattling from the kitchen, followed by the smell of coffee. They’ll rouse and stumble out of bed soon. After cleaning each other off and dressing in faded sweats, they’ll greet their family around a shared breakfast. Nicky will steal Joe’s coffee, but that’s why he always makes extra. Joe will eat all of Nicky’s toast, but that’s why he always uses Joe’s favourite jam. They'll hash out a new itinerary and bicker about which city to hop to next. 

  
  


But that’s later.

  
  


For now, Joe and Nicky will lay together and listen to the thunder and rain. They’ve got the time. 

  
  
  
  
  


**...If I told the sea what I felt for you, it would have left its shores, its shells, its fish, and followed me. - Nizar Qabbani**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on tumblr under the same name!


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